


Relentless

by HoneyGrunge



Series: Emhyr/Reader [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: CW: past penile mutilation, Cruelty, Drug Use, F/M, Large Cock, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Fantasy, Reader is somewhat willing but Emhyr's intent is not to gain consent, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23139625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: Emhyr notices you tending the gardens of his courtyard and decides that he will have you, whether you like it or not.
Relationships: Emhyr var Emreis/Reader
Series: Emhyr/Reader [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663297
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Relentless

**Author's Note:**

> What better to do than write nasty smut at 6 am when you're stuck at home due to a pandemic? But seriously Emhyr is just such a gorgeous man in Witcher 3, I couldn't help it.

You couldn’t pretend that you were ignorant of why you had been summoned. You’d known it would come sooner or later, ever since his frigid panther-like eyes had captured yours for the very first time. 

As always, you had been gardening, pruning the dead stems from the ginatia plants in the central courtyard. The sun was especially merciless that day and it had apparently driven the Emperor out into the fresher air of the open spaces. You were alone that afternoon, sweat half blinding you and frustration deadening the surprisingly light footsteps exiting the stone pathway to your left. You’d caught his movement in your peripherals and startled, nicking yourself with the pruning knife and freezing under his gaze. The shock had caused you to forget proper decorum for a few tense moments as the all too familiar - yet, somehow, entirely unfamiliar - strikingly handsome man watched you toil from the shade. He’d mercifully overlooked your rude stare, belying no emotions and making no move to leave. You dropped your eyes before he tired of your perceived insolence, but you’d still caught the beginnings of dark intent smoldering deep in his features. You’d known right then what he wanted, and that he would get it.

‘Relentless’ they called him in Gwent. And for good reason.

“Sit,” the eunuch ordered, tearing you back into the moment. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and enforced the command, pressuring your trembling knees to give in and drop you down onto the edge of the chaise. “Wait here. Attempt to escape and the guards will simply bring you back.”

With that he was gone, leaving you with your anxiety and over-scrubbed skin. It was no secret here that the Emperor had sought to bed his own daughter with full intent to sire a babe. Unsurprisingly, you found yourself wondering what a man like that would do to a low-status woman like you, someone who was entirely disposable.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the creaking sound of the chamber door; your heart nearly jumped up your throat and out the window when you saw him. He was dressed in his finest robes, immaculately styled in every way imaginable. He clutched a glass of wine in one hand while his other rested splayed against the mahogany wood of the door. _Gods,_ you thought, making an observation that warmed your cheeks: his hand could span the entire length of your face.

“Evening,” he murmured, and you noted that his eyes were rather more heavily lidded than they had been on that afternoon in the garden. Still, it did not detract from his stoney visage, and you found that you did not have the courage to make eye contact when he lifted the glass up to his thoroughly sinful lips.

“It is a good evening, your majesty,” you mumbled in return, quickly standing and bowing as he finally advanced towards you. You weren’t prepared for the firm grip when it settled over your chin and dragged your head up and out of the bow, higher and higher until you were forced to stand on your tiptoes while he inspected your face.

“Your prettiness is unmarred by proximity,” he said, and despite your fear you couldn’t help but melt into his voice. If you hadn’t been wet before, you certainly were now upon hearing his smooth, accented tone and smelling the expensive wine rolling off of his breath. But despite the compliment, his admiration was empty, and it was clear that you were nothing more than an object brought to sate his desires. After all, a man of such power rarely - if ever - found himself spilling into his own hand when nobody in the kingdom dared to deny him. Still, you noticed with slight shame that this revelation was only exciting you even further. You knew that even if you had not found yourself attracted to him it would not have stopped the coupling which was so obviously going to happen.

He let you go rather abruptly and reached down to grope your breast through the soft, sheer dress, rewarding you with a hum of approval. You flinched and he chuckled, squeezing your already pebbled nipple and shifting closer to smell your perfume. You stood awkwardly while he downed the rest of the wine, still scared to look at his face in case the alcohol had turned his mood volatile.

“Walk to the bed, turn around, and bend over.”

The command was even more abrupt than his groping had been, making it clear that he was not interested in your preparation. One of his masculine hands gripped your upper arm hard enough to draw a pained squeak and he guided you himself, not waiting for you to comply of your own volition. Fear gripped you then, and sweat broke out on your upper lip. He was clearly a man accustomed to dealing with unwilling partners.

And yet, again, you felt a powerful flutter deep down between your thighs.

His soft, well-manicured hand shifted upwards until it rested against the back of your neck. He shoved and you yelped, whimpering when he pinned your skull to the lush mattress like a bear trap. You heard shifting and the soft clink of the metallic bells woven into his royal clothes; you swallowed hard when he let out a small sigh and something warm poked against your bottom. Before you could process that this beautiful man’s cock was now bared behind you, he had the hem of your light dress flung up over your back and a gruff finger shoved deep inside you.

“ _ AH! _ ” you squeaked, but tried your damndest not to pull away. Emhyr paused and you could see in your mind’s eye the smug expression that must be plastered across his chiseled features.

“Mmm, what’s this? Never had a peasant this wet for me before,” he purred, curiosity evident in his voice. “You desire me, do you not?” His tone was mocking, no sincerity evident in the question.

“Yes,” you whispered into the velvet sheets, biting down on your tongue when he pulled his thick finger out and robbed you of that delicious pleasure. He was silent for a few moments, then his grip let up on your head and he chuckled. 

“Perhaps I ought to permit you to see what you seem to desire so much,” he offered. You got the sense that this was a rare occasion, a pleasure which he did not permit even most of his willing partners to enjoy. 

You nodded and sat up, shifting yourself over onto an elbow and turning to view him, arousal now thudding through your veins. He stood tall over you, shadows cast over his sharp cheekbones thanks to the flickering candlelight and dim evening moonlight. He was fully clothed except for his cock, which had been released from beneath the robes and now jutted out into the cool air of the room.  _ Gods _ , it was remarkably large, so girthy that it took you a moment to realize that something was slightly...different about it. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was due to the darkness of the room, but you hoped he did not take your confused expression for revulsion, for you did still find it attractive.

“Circumcision is what the mages call it. It is becoming popular in the North,” he explained, anticipating your question just as he shifted and you noticed the dusky scar. But there was also a seemingly unrelated jagged, deep divot running the length of his shaft, as if his flesh had been carved right out. It certainly explained his apparent preference of not being seen by his partners. He said nothing further but you weren’t ignorant, you knew the painful looking modification must have been a sacrifice in exchange for something desired. Pain and loss of flesh were standard for such magical exchanges, and Emhyr was an active employer of mages and sorceresses. Perhaps he had craved some form of enhanced physical beauty, extended life, et cetera. The amusing thought struck you that perhaps he had done it in exchange for a larger cock. He certainly seemed the type.

Before you could thank him for his "generosity", he had you turned back around and pinned down again, this time by the shoulder. It seemed his patience had worn out and his libido had finally taken over. You felt him shuffle closer so you edged backwards a bit, eager to feel him slip inside, knowing it would probably be the only time you would be taken by a man with a cock as unique as his. He thrusted into you without preamble, not bothering to pause and instead opting to trap your hips in his broad hands and fully seat himself with a single thrust. You choked out a pained cry but he paid it no heed, pulling out quickly and brutally slamming himself back into your tight, silky heat. You screamed this time, unable to help it, scooting forward in a vain attempt to escape the cruelty. 

“Stop wiggling,” he hissed, pausing to let you adjust more out of annoyance than mercy. You apologized in a trembling voice and pushed yourself back onto him, determined to feel him release inside of you. He set his punishing pace once more, short nails digging into your skin as his fingertips promised to leave their lasting marks on your flesh for days to come. Soon he was panting, murmuring words in Nilfgaardian under his breath that were so low you could not make them out. Despite the pain you felt your own pleasure growing, and unbeknownst to him slipped a hand down to rub yourself while he was distracted with his own sensations. The result was almost instantaneous: you came with a loud cry, shoving back against him and releasing around his cock with an intensity that made him falter.

“ _ FUCK!”  _ Emhyr growled, stabbing you with one final thrust before letting out a throaty groan and bucking deep into your core. You felt him rhythmically twitch and spill, reveling in the feeling of his heavy balls resting against your sensitive clit. Desperately desiring to see his climax, you twisted to view him and were not disappointed. His head was thrown back and his face was sweaty; his eyes were slitted and focused up towards the ornate ceiling. You couldn’t turn fast enough and he caught you looking. Realizing with a cringe that you had crossed a line, you ducked, but not in time. He grabbed you by the back of your dress and dragged you up, smacking you hard across the cheek for the disobedience.

“You do not look at me unless I explicitly order you to do so, wench,” he spat, shoving you down onto the bed and using the dress to clean off his cock. “You will remember that next time, won’t you?”

“Of course, your majesty,” you promised, both excited yet frightened at his intent to have you a second time. He turned to the bed stand as you lay motionless on the bed, afraid to move lest you trigger his anger. You heard a small snort and realized he was taking fisstech, but dared not look to confirm your assumption.

“What are you waiting for? I am sated, you are dismissed,” he said, waving a hand and setting the small bottle back down onto the stand. You slipped off the bed and hurried towards the door, embarrassed to walk home in this condition. Fortunately you weren’t the first to have a walk of shame from the Emperor's bedchambers, and you wouldn’t be the last.

You stole a final glance at him before slipping out the door, nodding out of required respect to the leering guards. You knew they would all talk to the other men about what they had overheard, and that you would likely be the subject of unwanted attention from the royal guard, but it felt worth it. He hadn’t meant to but Emhyr had sated a deeply hidden desire in you, the desire to be used and worthless. And now that it had been fully awoken, there could be no silencing it. 


End file.
